Franklin P Nelson: Super-Attorney
by enthusiasmgirl
Summary: Even before he found out that Matt was Daredevil, Foggy was earning Nelson and Murdock a reputation as the go-to law firm for superheroes. He was as surprised as anyone else by how it happened. (This story features a variety of characters from the Avengers in addition to those listed.)
1. Chapter 1 - Thor

"Shit!" Foggy said, sobbing and shaking with fear as he shoved his sister Candace's head closer to the laminated tile floor of the restaurant as window glass fell over them in shards. He draped himself over her to protect her. "Oh my god! Shit! What is even happening?" Next to him, a waitress and cook cowered in fear over the unconscious body of a woman, the woman's small son sobbing and crying out.

He had been having a perfectly normal lunch with his sister in one of their usual haunts, an old Hell's Kitchen diner that their family used to go to following church on Sundays, when everything had suddenly taken a turn for the terrifying. First, Candace's eyes had widened as she faced the window and she'd told him to turn around. The sky had darkened, like a storm was coming. Within moments, the darkness turned into what seemed at first like an enormous dust storm screaming down the city streets and up into the atmosphere, before it gave way to an unbelievable vision of gigantic creatures descending from the sky in impossible numbers, followed by undulating, menacing creatures the size of buildings that Foggy knew with one look would haunt his nightmares for years to come. People screamed. People fell. Chaos reigned, and everyone in the diner dove down towards the floor, hoping to remain secure and hidden, strangers bonded forever by a particular moment in time that none of them would ever forget.

Only they weren't hidden. Not anymore. A blast of light had shattered the window, taken out an enormous chunk of the building's wall and roof in fact, exposed the diner to the open air. From their low vantage point under a set of tables Foggy could make out three of the strange alien creatures stalking towards them. "Please..." he heard Candace whisper next to him as he held her firmly. "Please, no... I don't want to die, Foggy. God..."

Foggy cried silently, shushed her, and put his hand over her mouth to prevent her from making noise that would attract them. She quieted, but the little boy began to choke on sobs and cry for his mother.

The creatures spotted them and stalked over. However, before they could reach the group of survivors Foggy heard a distinctive noise. A whistling, like something moving at high speed through the air. Within seconds, something moving too fast to be clearly seen struck two of the creatures with a loud crunching thunk that Foggy vaguely realized was the sound of skulls being caved in. The object turned impossibly in mid-air and whizzed towards them, but not in their direction. It landed a foot or so away from them, punching itself through a table and embedding itself in the floor, kicking up a puff of smoke and dust.

Foggy cried out with relief, but realized that it had only taken out two of the creatures. The third, weaponless, now looked pissed off about about the loss of its colleagues. There were noises nearby, fighting going on, but it didn't sound close enough that anyone would reach them in time to save them. Foggy looked from the creature to the smashed table nearby where the object had fallen, desperate to do something, anything to keep his sister alive.

Candace looked at him with wide eyes. "No," she said, but it was too late. He had decided. He bolted for the object, and the creature gave chase. He dug through the rubble just as the creature reached him and grabbed him from behind. He could vaguely hear Candace scream his name as he reached down and his fingers found a handle of some kind. He wrapped his hand around it, gave a tug, and swung the object with everything he had in the direction of the creature. The object collided with the creature's head and sent it flying into the ground. It didn't get back up. The momentum of the object Foggy had grabbed carried him forward slightly, and he stumbled. When he finally look down at it, adrenaline pumping in his chest, he was surprised to see that he was holding an enormous metal hammer with a wooden handle. It was ornate. He could make out symbols that he didn't understand. And it felt powerful in his hand. There was a strange feeling surging through his body originating at the point where he held it.

Before he could contemplate what it all meant, he heard a flapping noise and the thud of something hitting the ground. He looked up and was surprised to find that the noise had signaled the arrival of a person, a tall, built blond man staring at him with awe and confusion clearly expressed on his face. The strangest thing was that the man wearing a flowing red cape caught in an updraft of wind, and armor like Foggy had never seen outside of a historical epic. The image it created was ethereal, godlike, and surreal. The man flicked his hand slightly and the hammer in Foggy's hand flew out of it and into his effortlessly, like it was never meant for Foggy.

"What is your name?" the man asked.

"Fog... Franklin Nelson," Foggy replied. It had taken him a moment to remember it in all the confusion, but it seemed inappropriate to provide the stately man in front of him with a nickname.

"You are a good and worthy man, Franklin Nelson," the man said, and his voice stirred something in Foggy that he couldn't identify. "I will remember this."

"Okay," Foggy said, exhaustion hitting him. Around him, he could hear the sounds of the fighting continuing. Behind the strange figure in the flowing cape, he could see the flying creatures still continuing to create a path of destruction throughout the city.

Suddenly, another figure appeared, nodding at the caped figure, and the caped figure flew off. It boggled Foggy's mind. The man had actually twisted the hammer in his arm a few times and flown away! And now, the new man, in a Captain America costume, was slowly helping his sister and the others stand up so that they could move somewhere safer. "Follow me," he was saying. "We'll get you someplace safe," the man said, lifting the unconscious woman as the waitress picked up the little boy.

Foggy wondered if anywhere was.


	2. Chapter 2 - Captain America

Foggy hadn't thought about the Battle of New York for months. Well, actually that wasn't true. He had nightmares on a regular basis about the Chitauri returning, and it was constantly being talked about on the news, and he was constantly forced to walk past fallen buildings and rubble in his neighborhood that reminded him of beloved businesses no longer there, people driven screaming from their homes. But those things he could detach himself from. The Battle of New York was a thing that happened. But he couldn't really think about it as being a thing that had happened to him. He knew that if he thought about his sister's begging, or the 55 missed calls from his mother and crying voicemails, or the desperation that Matt clutched him with as he cried and hugged him afterwards, he'd have to leave New York City like his sister had because he'd never be able to feel normal again.

So when the door at Nelson and Murdock opened one morning, only days after they had signed the lease and taken Karen on as their secretary, Foggy was more than a little terrified to see Captain America himself, Steve Rogers, standing hesitantly in the doorway.

Matt had called in sick, had said he had a headache which was worrying to Foggy. And Karen had stepped out to pick them up some lunch. So it was only Foggy there to greet one of history's greatest heroes.

"I'm looking for Franklin Nelson?" Steve asked.

"That's me!" Foggy said, surprised. "Hi," he said, standing up and moving to shake the man's hand vigorously. He only realized how vigorously a minute or so too late when things got awkward. But Steve just smiled. It must have happened to him all the time.

"I'm Steve-" he started to say.

"Rogers, yeah. I know," Foggy said, starting to sweat, his heart beating fast in his chest. "Captain America," he continued, unable to stop himself. "You saved my life during the Battle of New York. You probably don't remember. Holy crap. Cow! I mean, holy cow! Sorry!"

"It's okay," Steve said, laughing, and Foggy reflected on how incredible it was that the man seemed to actually be as humble and down to Earth as everyone liked to imagine he was. "I'm sorry to just show up here out of the blue. I probably should have made an appointment but your phone wasn't working when I tried to call."

Foggy blushed, embarrassed. "Yeah, we're still having some issues with the set up. The office is pretty new, so..." He didn't know what else to say. How do you make small talk with an unfrozen WWII soldier?

"Wait..." Foggy finally asked, "Did you say you were looking for me?"

"I am," said Steve. "I am in need of a lawyer, a good one, and a friend of mine told me that you would be able to help me."

"Really?" said Foggy. "I don't know who your friend is but I've technically only been a lawyer for a couple of weeks now. So I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve that reputation. Plus aren't you friends with Tony Stark? I'm sure he's got a whole team of sharks on his payroll who he could introduce you to." Internally, Foggy reprimanded himself for blowing it. Why was he telling Steve to go to someone else? What was wrong with him?

"You are definitely right about Stark's legal team. They're who I've been using until now. They're... aggressive," said Steve, and it was clear that he was trying to be nice. "I just wanted to find my own lawyer. Someone who I could trust and who I knew was more interested in doing the right thing than money. My friend told me that I wouldn't find someone who fit that bill more than you. Worthy, actually, was the word he used."

"Wow, really?" Foggy said, wondering who it was. Worthy? Him?

"Absolutely," Steve said with certainty. "Are you busy, Mr. Nelson?"

"Foggy, please!" Foggy insisted, leading Steve into his office.

Steve laughed. "Foggy? Alright, then. I was led to believe that nicknames like that were a bit old-fashioned these days."

"Really? Nobody told me." Foggy said. "Plus, it's better than Franklin." He wrinkled his nose as he said it. He had always hated his given name.

"Hey," said Steve, "Don't knock it. I knew a Franklin once. He was one of the best men I ever met."

As he closed the door behind them, Foggy realized who Steve was referring to and his knees just about buckled under him, his mind unable to even really process what was happening.

"So," he said, turning to walk towards his desk as Steve settled into the chair across from him. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm not sure if you keep up on the news or not, but I recently separated from the organization known as S.H.I.E.L.D.,' Steve explained. "They, along with the Stark Industries legal team, were doing a lot of the heavy lifting for me related to re-integrating me into the world, which from my understanding hasn't been an easy thing to do in the eyes of the law."

Foggy sighed, unsure. Steve's situation wasn't exactly one that Columbia had prepared him for. "You're not wrong," he said. "Officially you were dead for over 70 years, so even just getting you proper identification and having your existence be legally recognized would have been a pretty crazy undertaking."

"It was," Steve said, "But it wasn't enough. I have ID, which is good. I can rent an apartment, apply for a credit card. Those are good too. But I don't want to just be able to move on and set up a new identity for myself. I want my old life back."

"Ummmm..." said Foggy, wondering if maybe he had gotten in over his head already. "I don't think I understand."

"I know I can't go back in time. That's not what I mean," explained Steve. "But I had things, belongings, before I went in the ice that I feel entitled to. I've been trying to hunt some of it down through collectors or museums, but apparently there's a lot of gray area around who it all belongs to now. You'd be surprised how many people are more concerned with how much one of my family heirlooms is worth than the fact that it belongs to me, that it has sentimental value that I can't put a price on."

"Wow, really?" Foggy asked. He'd never considered that before.

"Yeah," said Steve. "And there's also a lot of misinformation floating around in the culture about Captain America and about me that needs to be corrected. I can't believe some of the ways my reputation has been ruined by people over the years. Do you know that there's a museum in Brooklyn claiming to be located in the building where I grew up? It's not even close. All the stuff in it is bunk. And there's a lot of biographies out there making money for publishers or authors that I had nothing to do with. Some of them are pretty outlandish."

"I can imagine," Foggy said. And he could.

"I'm getting frustrated. All of the other lawyers I've met have told me that it's not worth my time or energy to fight for my reputation or the things that I had," Steve said. "It's like my absence means that I don't have a say in any of it. I need someone on my side who understands why I'm fighting and won't back down. I know it's a lot to ask. I'm not even sure if it's something that you're interested in."

"No!" said Foggy, "I'm interested, and I understand exactly why it's so important to you. I mean, I can't even imagine what it would be like to sacrifice yourself like that and then wake up in a world that's completely different, where everyone and everything has moved on. But I can see why the little things, the stuff you owned and the stories people told about you, would matter to you."

"Yeah?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Foggy said with more confidence than he felt, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing with his hands like the answer was obvious.

Steve nodded his head, and so Foggy opened his laptop and began pulling up copies of the paperwork he would have to print to take Steve on as a client.

When Foggy politely excused himself and stepped out of the office to print the paperwork he needed, he noticed that Karen had come back from lunch.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him. "Do you actually have a client in there?" She sounded excited.

"I do," Foggy said, "And you will never guess who it is."

"Wait, what?" Karen asked. "Who is it? You have to tell me. I'm going to find out anyway."

"Steve freakin' Rogers," Foggy said.

"Okay, ha ha Foggy," Karen said, walking back towards her own desk.

"I'm not kidding," said Foggy. "Captain America is in my office right now prepared to hire me on as his personal attorney!"

"And you're saying yes?" Karen asked.

"Uh, yeah? Why would I say no?" Foggy asked.

"Because you and Matt are partners and he has a say in it too," Karen explained. "And I'm pretty sure that taking Captain America on as a client violates the innocent clients only rule you guys have."

"What?" asked Foggy, completely blown away by what she had said. "Captain America isn't innocent? They don't come any more innocent than that! Are you crazy?"

"Foggy, the intelligence organization that he worked for up until very recently turned out to be secretly infiltrated by Hydra," Karen said. "Did you even read any of the information that was dumped from the S.H.I.E.L.D. servers? It was not exactly puppies and rainbows. And he's friends with Tony Stark. Otherwise known as the asshole who once said that world peace could be privatized?"

"Wow," said Foggy slowly, "Not an Avengers fan, are you Karen?"

"They're impressive," she said, "but do you really want to take on any of their legal problems? And you know that Matt is going to agree with me."

Foggy sighed. She was right. He knew she was.

"So we don't tell him," Foggy said. "Steve didn't ask for Matt, anyway. He asked for me. And it's nothing too extensive or time consuming. Plus, it'll keep the lights on while we wait for all of the poor innocent souls of Hell's Kitchen to show up who need help. Do you wanna work for free forever?"

"No," Karen agreed.

"Please, Karen?" Foggy asked. "That guy in there saved my life during the Battle of New York. I owe him."

"Fine," Karen said. "What's one small secret, I guess. Plus, he is Captain America. Do you think he would give me an autograph?"

"I think he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked him," said Foggy. "He definitely lives up to the hype."

"Wow," said Karen.

"Wow," Foggy agreed.


	3. Chapter 3 - Hulks

Foggy was impatient. He was starving, and his order was taking forever to be ready, and all he could think about was the enormous workload waiting for him back at the office.

Since Foggy had found out that Matt was Daredevil, his friendship with his partner had been on shaky ground. It meant that even though Foggy was swamped with work and even though Matt wasn't pulling his weight due to his nighttime activities, he didn't want to say anything to his friend. He worried it would sound accusing or trigger an argument that he really wasn't ready to have. And Foggy was also concerned that he would have to admit that some of the extra work was for a client who Matt didn't know about. Cap's legal battles currently included two libel cases, a trademark infringement case, and a lawsuit against an auction house. So far, Foggy had been able to work towards a settlement in most of the cases he'd taken on for Steve, and thankfully the man was always happy to meet with him over pizza or a beer, but eventually Matt was going to notice what was going on and ask questions.

Finally, a woman behind the fast food counter called "Foggy" and he went to take his food, only to run around and be faced with someone unexpected.

"Foggy Nelson?" the woman asked, sweeping her brown bangs away from her face.

"Jen Walters?" Foggy asked. "No way! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in way too long!"

"I know," she said, being handed her own order. "Not since our second year at Columbia. It's great to see you. Oh, man. Foggy Nelson..." she chuckled to herself. "Are you staying to eat?" she asked invitingly, and Foggy nodded his head even as he knew that it was a bad idea.

The pair sat down at a nearby booth, and Foggy marveled at the lack of awkwardness he felt. "I can't believe I ran into you here," he said. "I didn't think you were in New York anymore. You left Columbia so suddenly. What happened to you?"

"Oh..." said Jen. "You didn't hear?" She sounded regretful, and Foggy regretted bringing it up.

"You don't have to tell me if it's a long story or it's personal," he said.

"No, it's fine," Jen said. "It was a while ago. And you're right, my leaving school was sudden. I just got sick. Had to take some time off. I'm back now though, finishing up my final year."

"Oh yeah?" Foggy asked.

"Yep. Interning at Landman and Zack, actually," Jen said.

"Seriously? Matt and I were there last year!" Foggy said, smiling.

"And they didn't offer you guys a job?" Jen said, "I find that hard to believe. If they didn't take you and Matt, then I suddenly don't feel great about my chances. You guys were at the top of the class."

Foggy laughed to himself. "I'm sure they'll want you. You were always amazing. And they did offer me and Matt a job. We just decided to open our own firm instead."

"What? Really?" Jen said, impressed. "Murdock and Nelson. Wow. That's impressive."

"Nelson and Murdock," Foggy corrected proudly, "and you wouldn't say that if you saw it. We only just got our names on the door written in something other than marker on construction paper. And the expenses are killing us."

"But still," said Jen, "you went for it. Good for you!"

"Yeah, well tell me that again this time next year when you're pulling in six figures and I'm still wearing this same suit ragged," he said, shaking his head.

She laughed and they tucked into their food, bantering back and forth about shared acquaintances from their law school days and their lives.

"So," Jen asked as they were getting up to leave. "Are you still seeing Marci Stahl? I seem to remember the two of you being an item for a while there."

"No," said Foggy. "She was a little too demanding for me, and I'm kind of married to the job these days."

"Huh," said Jen thoughtfully. "Well, far be it from me to entice you to cheat on your clients with me but did you maybe wanna grab dinner sometime?"

"I guess I could make the time to catch up," Foggy said as they hit the sidewalk.

"Sure," said Jen, "We could catch up. Or maybe make up for lost time?" She leaned in and Foggy was surprised when she kissed him softly on the lips.

She pulled back slowly and was suddenly shy. "Sorry if that's forward," she said. "Just... being sick made me think a lot about the fact that sometimes you just don't have the time to take things slow. I like you, Foggy. Let's go out."

Foggy could only nod his head in a daze. "Yeah... that... would be good. I'm just surprised. I never knew you were into me. Wow. Let's go out! Tonight? You said why take it slow, right?"

"Sounds good," she said. "I'll give you my number."

So much for getting through all the work he had to get done and having time to sleep. But he had a good feeling about Jen and suspected it would be worth it.

* * *

Foggy couldn't believe how well the date was going. He couldn't believe that he was even on a date with Jennifer Walters to begin with. He had liked her in college. But he had always assumed that she was way out of his league.

And now here they were, joking and laughing over wine in a fancy restaurant. Foggy found himself amused by the fact that his best friend was a blind ninja, he had once defeated an alien by wielding Thor's hammer, and he regularly shared a beer with Captain America, but this was the thing he found himself not able to believe was happening to him.

As he regaled her with a story about a particularly sarcastic judge that he and Matt had encountered on a case, he suddenly saw her face fall slightly. "What did I say?" he asked.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry. It's not you. I just wish that I had finished with you guys. I wish I was a lawyer already, you know? Instead I'm sitting here terrified to take the bar exam still and jealous of all your success. It's rude of me. Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No," Foggy said, surprised. "It's okay. I just didn't realize how difficult it must have been for you having to leave. Did you want to talk about it?"

Jen sighed, like she was considering it but knew it might be a bad idea. She took a big gulp of wine like she was steeling her nerves and eventually spoke.

"I had leukemia," she said.

"Oh," said Foggy, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah," she said. "Advanced. Not the kind that anyone expects you to recover from."

"But you did," Foggy stated.

"I did. They were able to find me a bone marrow donor. But even that came with... complications."

"Wow. That's intense," Foggy said. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "I'm out of the woods now. And feeling great. But it just forced me to really have to think about my life. To re-prioritize."

"Well you couldn't have shifted your priorities that much because you still want to be a lawyer," Foggy said.

"Yeah," said Jen. "I do. I want to help people."

"And you will," said Foggy.

"Yeah," said Jen. "Just like you do."

"Awwww..." said Foggy, lifting his glass. "To Jennifer Walters. future attorney at law!"

She laughed, and they toasted. Everything was going great. Until her phone rang.

"Sorry," she said, smiling. "I have to take this." Foggy gestured for her to go ahead.

"Hi," he heard her say. "What's up?"

He tried not to eavesdrop but he couldn't help it.

"Wait... what? Oh my God! Bruce! Where are you right now?" he heard. "Seriously? Oh I am going to murder that man... no, not really! It was a joke... Okay, I'll do what I can... I said I would try... Just wait there... Maybe a couple of hours... You know you kind of interrupted a date... Yes... Very well actually." Foggy blushed. "Don't say that, please... Okay... Bye sweetie."

Jen sighed as she hung the phone up and looked at Foggy with guilt in her eyes. "I am so, so sorry. I have to go."

"Really?" Foggy asked, surprised and sad. "Of course. That sounded kind of urgent. Is it something I could help with?"

Jen looked at him and seemed unsure. "Maybe? I don't know if you would want to."

"What is it?" Foggy asked. "What's going on?"

"It's my cousin," she said.

"Your cousin?" Foggy asked.

"That's right. He's sort of..." She clearly was struggling to find the right words. "...sick. He has some issues. And sometimes these issues result in him waking up places without really knowing how he got there or how to get someplace safe. Usually he calls me, which is frustrating since I don't even own a car. It's ridiculous. But I love him, so I rent a car or find a way to get to him."

"Wow," said Foggy. "That's pretty crazy."

"Yeah," Jen said. "I worry about him."

"Is it epilepsy? Or a mental illness, like schizophrenia?" Foggy asked, curious.

"Sort of," Jen said. "I don't really want to get into the specifics. It's his business, really."

"And that's what happened tonight?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah," Jen said. "He's actually got other friends who have been helping him lately, but they are apparently fighting at the moment. So I have to find a way to get out to the Adirondack Mountains to pick him up."

"Wait, seriously?" Foggy said. "That's the middle of nowhere. And at least a four hour drive away!"

"Foggy," Jen said. "Do you know that bone marrow donor I told you about? It was Bruce. I have to go. He's family. And I owe him."

"Okay," said Foggy.

"I will make it up to you" Jen said. "I promise. We'll book another date."

"Or," said Foggy, "We could continue this one. Because you don't have a car. But I do."

"No," she said. "Foggy I couldn't ask you to do that. If we left now we wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning at the earliest. You have clients and an office that needs you. It's too much."

"I want to," Foggy said. "My car just sits there most of the time costing me money. I only have it because it's an old beater my dad gave me when I started college and I couldn't bear to part with it. So let's put some miles on it. I don't mind."

Jen leaned over the table, and to Foggy's surprise she kissed him deeply. With gratitude. He didn't mind.

"You're a good man, Foggy Nelson. Let's go," Jen said.

* * *

The ride deeper north into the mountains of New York state was long but beautiful, even at night. And Foggy was enjoying the company.

He was glad it was late, since it meant that he knew he would reach Matt's voicemail when he called to let him know where he was. He didn't really want to have to explain himself.

On the ride up, the pair talked about anything and everything. Why they went into law. Their childhoods. it was comfortable. They grabbed energy drinks and junk food at a gas station. They sang along with old Classic Rock songs on the radio. Foggy couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun. He wondered if this was what falling in love felt like.

The carefree atmosphere was broken when a news report came on the radio.

"Nevada State Police are advising all residents to keep an eye out for the green beast known as the Incredible Hulk," the news report stated. "The Avenger was spotted rampaging just outside of Dayton, Nevada earlier this afternoon, damaging homes and buildings and injuring dozens. Other Avengers, including Iron Man, were on hand attempting to subdue him, but officials say that they were unable to apprehend him. State Police have put up barricades on all major highways and teams are scouring the desert for any sign of the beast. While it is assumed that he is still in the Nevada area, there is a possibility that he could currently be anywhere in the country. If you have any information, please contact local officials."

"Well that's ridiculous," Foggy said.

"What is?" Jen said, and Foggy realized that she had gone quiet and looked subdued.

"That they're expending all that effort trying to hunt down the Hulk like he's some fugitive," Foggy said. "Making him out to be some kind of monster and calling him a beast? I mean, the Avengers were with him and I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt anyone, right? So let them handle it."

"What if the Avengers can't handle it? What if the Hulk is dangerous?" asked Jen, something dark creeping into her voice.

"Please," said Foggy. "There's no way that the Hulk would be part of the Avengers if he were that dangerous. And the Avengers can handle anything."

"You think so?" Jen wondered.

Foggy laughed to himself. "Okay, so I'm going to tell you something, and you can't tell Matt if you ever see him, because he doesn't know. I'm kind of Captain America's personal attorney. We hang out and stuff. And believe me when I tell you that if Cap has faith in someone, it's earned."

"He has faith in you," Jen said.

"Damn. I didn't realize what a humblebrag that was. But I guess he does, yeah," Foggy said. "And I refuse to believe that he would trust Hulk to have his back if he were a threat."

"If you're trying to impress me, Foggy, it's working beautifully," Jen said.

"Yeah?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah," Jen said, resting her head on his shoulder as he drove.

* * *

By the time they reached their destination, Foggy and Jen were both exhausted. The side roads that they had ended up having to take were pitch black with very little traffic, and tall trees lined either side. It was serene, but eerie.

Finally, Jen told Foggy to pull over to the side of the road where a small log cabin, barely big enough to be considered one room, sat.

"Is there where your cousin has been this whole time? You weren't kidding about him ending up in some interesting places," Foggy said.

"I know," Jen said, slipping out of the car. She knocked on the door, and Foggy saw a curly-haired head peek out. Apparently, it never occurred to Bruce that Jen would have anyone else with her. Foggy could see them gesturing at one another and arguing. Finally, Jen coaxed Bruce out of the cabin. It was then that Foggy noticed that the man's clothes were rumpled and mismatched, and he was wrapped in a thick blanket.

He waved at the man, and Bruce gave him a hesitant wave back and made his way into the backseat of the car.

"Hi," Bruce said, so quietly that Foggy almost didn't hear him.

"Hey, man," Foggy said. "Rough night, huh?"

Jen threw Foggy a look like he was crazy for saying anything, so Foggy just drove, the radio on in the background only slightly easing the tension in the car.

"So this is Foggy," Jen said. "Foggy this is Bruce."

Bruce just slouched further into his seat and pulled the blanket more tightly around him like he wanted to disappear.

It was going to be a long drive back to the city.

* * *

Two hours into the drive back, the three of them had decided to stop for food. Foggy was amused to watch Bruce, who was drawing stares from the couple of truckers in the 24 hour diner they had found, put away more food than he'd seen anyone, even Cap, eat in one sitting. Although the man had been alone in that cabin for four hours, so Foggy imagined he must be starving.

Jen's phone rang, and even though she looked disgusted when she saw the Caller ID, she politely told Foggy that she had to answer it. It must have been important if the person was calling at 3am.

"What do you want?" Foggy heard Jen say into the phone. She really didn't like whoever it was on the other end.

"Yes, he's here and safe, no thanks to you," she continued. So Foggy assumed it was Bruce's friend who he had fallen out with. "Who the hell is Veronica? No... you know what. I don't care, Tony. He's not some science experiment who you can just fool around with... Why would this be about us? There's no us! Oh, you are infuriating. No, I'm not letting you speak to him."

"Jen," Bruce said, gesturing for her to give him the phone. Jen just shook her head. "Please..." Bruce asked, pleading, and she finally handed it over.

Bruce excused himself to step outside and finish the call, looking miserable.

"Foggy," Jen said, looking equally miserable. "I can't thank you enough for doing this."

Foggy just smiled at her tiredly. "Don't worry about it. Bruce seems..." He didn't know how to finish the thought..

"Scared," Jen said, "and miserable. And in need of a friend who isn't the worst kind of instigator for trouble, honestly."

"Seems like it," Foggy said. When Bruce came back in, he seemed slightly more agitated, but in the end his exhaustion won out. He slept the rest of the way home.

* * *

When Foggy finally pulled his car up to Jen's apartment, it was 6am and the sun was just coming up. It had been a long night.

Jen turned to him in her seat. "Foggy," she said, "You know that I can never thank you enough, right? You really are amazing."

"It was nothing," Foggy said. "Anyone would have done the same thing in my shoes."

"No," Jen insisted. "They absolutely would not have. You're one of a kind. Really."

"I like you," Foggy confessed.

"I like you, too," Jen said. "But can I be honest?"

"Sure," Foggy replied.

"I don't know if I'm in the right head space for a relationship right now. What with finishing up school, and all of the obvious family drama I have going on." She gestured to Bruce.

Foggy sighed. He knew it was too good to be true.

"But," Jen said, "I'd really like to see where this goes."

Foggy grinned. "Me too."

"Bye, Foggy. I'll call you." She pecked him on the cheek, and the got out of the car and opened the back seat to wake Bruce up and shepherd him into her apartment.

As they walked up the steps to her door, Foggy rolled down the window. "Hey, Bruce?" he yelled.

Bruce looked back sleepily.

"It was nice meeting you. If you ever find yourself in trouble again or need a lawyer, at least until your cousin passes the bar, feel free to give me a call, alright?"

"Trust me, Foggy, you don't want to do that," Bruce replied sadly.

"We'll see," Foggy said, pulling away.

As he drove back towards his own street, another news report caught his attention on the radio. "Reports of Hulk sightings yesterday evening continued, with the last report happening in New York's Adirondack Mountains around 8:30pm. State officials are reminding all citizens to keep their eyes open, and state that they believe at this point that the Hulk is no longer a threat, but that they are looking for his alter ego Dr. Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner stands approximately 5 foot eight inches tall, weighs approximately 175 lbs, and has dark brown curly hair. It is likely that he will appear confused, lost, or be wearing stolen clothing..." The news report continued, but Foggy had heard enough to have realized who he had just dropped off.

He clutched the steering wheel a little tighter and tried not to panic, remembering that it wasn't like the man was the first superhero he had ever met. But still, Foggy couldn't help but wonder what it was about himself that kept attracting them.

And he'd offered to help him! What was he going to do if Bruce actually called him? There were only so many clients he could keep from Matt, and this one he definitely did not want his friend to know about.

Although he was certain that the fact that he spent the entire night driving and didn't get any work done would prove to be a pretty good distraction from any other questions Matt might have. Plus, he had no regrets. It had been a good night.


	4. Chapter 4 - Spider-Man

Foggy sighed. Once again, as he walked through Times Square and was jostled on all sides by businessmen and tourists, he was subjected to a painful sight. A group of colorful figures were gathered on the sidewalk with people crowded around them, enamored. And, tucked in between Elmo and Superman, two unidentified men in red costumes were catcalling women, smoking, and harassing tourists into allowing them to take expensive photos with their excited children. Spider-Man and Daredevil, or at least the Times Square versions of them. Foggy passed by them on a regular basis and never found them any less disgusting. Once, he had even been forced to watch a particularly surly Daredevil be led away in handcuffs.

Between that and the daily headlines in the Bugle proclaiming Daredevil, and other heroes like him, a public menace, Foggy found himself becoming increasingly cynical. What was wrong with people?

The Avengers didn't have to put up with it. Foggy remembered the one time he had seen a poorly made foam Iron Man costume among the usual group of Times Square anti-heroes. By the time he grabbed a coffee and left the coffee shop twenty minutes later, there had a been an entire team of men in suits brandishing cease and desist orders hovering around the poor idiot.

Steve told Foggy once that Tony Stark took the intellectual property rights of each of the Avengers superhero alter-egos very seriously. Foggy was still working on getting Matt to take his own life that seriously, so convincing the man to let him address Daredevil's public image was unfortunately low on the priority list.

So Foggy kept walking, his fists clenched, just like he always did.

* * *

"Why couldn't we do it?" Foggy asked, voice raised. "It's just a cease and desist order."

"Because it draws attention to us, Foggy!" Matt said, angry. "It connects us to Daredevil and puts us at risk. And that's if people don't connect the dots and realize who Daredevil is."

"No offense, Matt," Foggy said, "but I highly doubt that if we represent Daredevil, people will jump to the conclusion that he's you. When Superman puts on his glasses and becomes Clark Kent, it's a disguise. When you do it, it's for an entirely different reason. Pretty sure the fact that you're blind protects you pretty well on that front, buddy."

"That's even worse," Matt said. "People could conclude that you're Daredevil and come after you, Foggy!"

Foggy laughed uproariously, almost falling out of his chair. "Don't take this the wrong way, Matt, but you have now eliminated all doubts I may ever have had that you aren't actually blind because you clearly have never seen me. I wish."

Matt just sighed. "Could you take this seriously, please?" he asked.

"I am taking it seriously. Are you?" Foggy asked. "I thought part of the whole devil persona that you've got going on was that you wanted to be a symbol. You wanted to strike fear into the hearts of criminals. Isn't it easier for you if they see you and run away pissing their pants rather than deciding to be brave enough to attack? Every day that those assholes in Times Square are swearing in front of little kids and pick-pocketing from their parents, they're turning you into a joke!"

"I don't care, Foggy," said Matt. "I don't want our partnership tied to Daredevil in any way. End of discussion."

And that was it. Foggy decided to drop the subject. It wasn't worth the fight.

* * *

Just because Matt said that he didn't want Nelson and Murdock representing Daredevil didn't mean that there weren't other ways that Foggy could help. It didn't occur to him until the opportunity presented itself, but once it did he couldn't resist taking it.

He was sitting on his favorite bench in the park near their office when it happened. Out of nowhere, a man sitting atop enormous metal stilts and wielding a laser gun came stumbling down the city street towards him.

"Shit!" Foggy said, dropping his hot dog. Maybe he should leave New York City. If he did, maybe these things wouldn't keep happening to him. He got up, turned and ran without looking back, hearing screams and people scattering behind him.

Then, there was a whooshing noise, and a voice. An awkward, clearly pubescent and cracking, but also much too confident voice. Someone was mocking the Stilt-Man, trying to draw him away from the area.

Foggy turned around just in time to see Spider-Man engaged in the fight, his webs entangling the Stilt-Man's legs and enraging the man. Then, just as the battle was about to be won, one of Stilt-Man's legs kicked a car in the street with an immense force, propelling it through the air. Foggy gasped as he realized it was aimed at him, and heard a cry of "Duck, guy!" come from beneath Spider-Man's mask.

He ducked into a ball and saw the shadow of the car hovering over him. Looking up, he saw that the car was now hanging above him and wrapped in webbing, caught between two enormous trees that he had been standing between. Looking back towards Stilt-Man, he saw that the man was now detached from his legs and being subdued, a crowd gathered around him.

Spider-Man sat on top of the car in it's bizarre hammock, peering down at him. "You alright?" he asked.

Foggy gave a thumbs up and a smile as he sat up. "That was a close one," he said. "Thanks."

"Just doing my job, sir!" said Spider-Man, clearly about to swing away before the police arrived.

"Wait!" Foggy said, a flash of inspiration overtaking him. Spider-Man actually stopped and turned, curious what he had to say. Foggy reached in his pocket with one hand and hesitantly held his hand out with the other. "Foggy Nelson, attorney at law," he said, shaking a gloved hand and handing Spidey a business card. "If you ever want to talk about some of the legal ways you can take control of your image or reputation, or if you just need someone to help you out of a jam, give me a call. I don't even need to know your name to do it. I owe you one."

"Huh," said Spider-Man, considering the offer. "I'll keep it in mind." And with that, he swung off.

* * *

Foggy never expected Spider-Man to actually show up. Bruce had never called him, and he knew that expecting New York's most controversial hero to hire him on the basis of a thirty second conversation was a long shot. So, he never could have anticipated seeing the slender form of Spider-Man staring at him in his apartment one night from a corner as he flicked the kitchen light on to prepare a snack.

He hoped that nobody ever found out that he screamed like a little girl. "What the hell?" he said.

Spider-Man put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, man. I wish I could have just called ahead or given you a little more warning, but I can't be too careful, you know?"

Foggy calmed down, but was still panting heavily. "Why are you in my apartment?" he said.

"Well I didn't want to come by your office," Spider-Man said like the answer was obvious. "I thought it was better to be discrete. You know you should really lock your window. This city is dangerous."

Foggy left the window open for occasional late night visits from the other man he knew who fought crime in a red costume, but he wasn't about to tell Spider-Man that.

"Okay then," he said, resignation and acceptance in his voice. "Did you want to sit down?" What was he supposed to say in this situation.

"Sure," said Spider-Man. "Hey, were you gonna make yourself a turkey sandwich. Because I won't lie, crime fighting makes me pretty hungry."

Foggy just shrugged and started making a second sandwich, while Spider-Man settled himself on the couch.

"So, can I assume that your presence here means you're interested in hiring me?" Foggy asked as he spread mayo on bread.

"That's the idea," Spider-Man said. "You mentioned that you didn't need to know my name? And that you could do something about my image? Not sure how that's possible, but it sounded good to me."

Foggy nodded his head as he brought the food into the living room and took a seat across from his strange guest. "Right, well I may have fudged the details slightly," he admitted. "You wouldn't have to reveal your identity publicly. But at least one other person would have to know your real name."

"Go on," said Spider-Man.

"Well, let's say that you want to prevent those jack-asses in Times Square from dressing up like you, or that you wanted to stop that guy on the sidewalk in Central Park selling the t-shirts that show you giving the finger. As examples," Foggy said. "If you were anyone else who was famous, you could just issue a cease and desist order. And then if they kept doing it, you could sue them. But if nobody knows your identity, that's not really possible because anyone in a costume could just claim that they were you and that they gave permission. How would you ever be able to prove you're you, right?"

"It is a problem," said Spider-Man.

"There is a way around it though," Foggy said. "I've thought about this a lot, even consulted with some of my colleagues. And we figured out that you could get away with signing a document that states your name, that you swear under penalty of perjury that you're Spider-Man, and that legal actions taken under the Spider-Man name are authorized by you. If you did that, nobody else would ever have to know your name other than your lawyer. That lawyer could then act on your behalf however you needed them to negotiate merchandising rights, sue for libel, or anything else necessary to protect your reputation."

"But what if someone got to the lawyer?" Spider-Man asked. "Then there would be this piece of paper out there with my name on it too. I don't like that idea."

"Well that stuff could be negotiated," Foggy said. "There would have to be protections in place to keep the document and the lawyer safe. It would have to be someone you trusted."

"And you think that I should trust you like that?" Spider-Man asked. "I don't even know you."

"No," said Foggy. "You don't. To be honest, I didn't figure that you would actually want to hire me. I just wanted to consult with you and make sure you know your rights because i think what's happening to you is pretty lousy."

"Yeah?" Spider-Man asked.

"Absolutely, man," Foggy said. "You're a hero! And you're not even doing it for the money or the fame like some other people are. You're only doing it because it's the right thing to do. Plus, you saved my life today. I meant it when I said that I owe you. But if you did want to consider me, you should know that I come with excellent references."

"Tell me more," said Spider-Man.

Foggy was glad that he had made them food. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The next day, Matt was surprised when he arrived at the office to find Foggy already meeting with a client. He was even more surprised when the client exited Foggy's office two hours later and he realized that he recognized them. Even if they didn't recognize him.

"Foggy," Matt asked once they were alone. "Why were you meeting with Peter Parker?"

"You know him?" Foggy asked, curious.

"Sort of," Matt said. "You realize that he's under 18, right? You really should have had a parent or guardian present if you're planning on representing him. And I don't like the idea of you taking on new clients without consulting with me first."

Foggy smiled. "First things first, I should probably tell you right now that if you're going to be distracted by other things, there are going to be times when I'm going to have to move ahead with a client without you, Mr. Missed Three Days of Work Because I Broke a Rib." Matt flinched in pain as though the guilt Foggy struck him with had been a physical blow.

"Second," Foggy continued, "Pete's a friend, and the work he has asked me to do for him is actually so confidential that even sharing it with you would feel like a violation of his trust. So as much as we're partners, you'll have to just let this one go. Attorney-client privilege."

"Foggy..." Matt looked concerned and unsure if he wanted to press the issue.

Foggy smiled, knowing that Matt was stuck. On the one hand, if Matt did know that Peter Parker was Spider-Man (which Foggy suspected that he did), he wouldn't want Foggy involved with him. On the other hand, Matt respected Spider-Man's right to a secret identity far too much to outright discuss it with Foggy without Foggy confirming it, which Foggy couldn't do. They were at a stalemate.

"Just be careful," Matt said. And he left it at that.

* * *

A week later, Foggy walked through Times Square with a smile on his face, happy to see that not only was the Spider-Man who usually frequented the area no longer there, but the severity of his cease and desist letter had scared off all of the superhero imitators altogether. The knowledge that just because nobody knew who they were didn't mean that they couldn't sue you must have spread.

If Foggy also made a new friend who had his back when Matt couldn't be there, well, that was just a nice bonus.


	5. Chapter 5 - Hawkeye

Foggy knew that he and Matt were going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation. Maybe even another argument. He had been putting it off for as long as he could, wanting to move forward the way he and Matt had discussed after that horrible night in Matt's apartment. But he knew that he could only do that for so long.

Matt definitely knew that Nelson and Murdock were now representing Spider-Man. Because Peter's privacy related to his identity was so important and because nobody else could know who he was, he was listed as Spider-Man on invoices and in their billing system. Foggy was amused by the way Karen smiled constantly when she saw the name throughout the day. But Matt's mood had been sour around the office lately, and Foggy suspected that Spider-Man, and Foggy keeping secrets, was why.

Not that he felt sorry for his actions. He didn't. If it weren't for Foggy, and for Captain America and Spider-Man, Nelson and Murdock may not even have lasted as long as it had. Foggy was the one bringing in clients. And Foggy was the one putting the majority of the work into what was supposed to be a partnership while Matt prioritized his work as a vigilante over his responsibilities as a lawyer. Foggy didn't begrudge him that. He just didn't like the fact that Matt didn't seem to want to acknowledge it or trust Foggy's judgment. He suspected that Matt knew that, which is why he hadn't said anything so far. But there was only so long that Matt's guilt and Foggy's sense of self-righteousness could hold up before something gave.

That something ended up being another Avenger.

* * *

Foggy and Matt were working late on a tough case, finishing up paperwork that absolutely needed to be filed the next morning, when Foggy's phone rang.

"Jen?" asked Matt, smiling.

"No," Foggy said. "Unknown number. Too late to be a telemarketer." He took the call, curious.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Is this Franklin P. Nelson?" a male voice asked.

"It is," said Foggy, even more curious.

"Hey, Steve gave me your number," the man said. "My name's Clint Barton. You probably know me as Hawkeye." Foggy stiffened, suddenly very aware that Matt was sitting across from him and probably listening in to the call.

"Is there a reason you're calling me at 9:30pm on a Tuesday night, Mr. Barton?" he asked.

"Yeah, I got myself in a bit of trouble. With the law. Steve gave me your number and told me if that ever happened that I should call you," Clint said.

"Okay," Foggy said. "Where are you?"

Clint provided the name of a police precinct in Bed-Stuy, said he was being held there and that they wanted to interrogate him. Foggy began pulling his coat on and gathering his things. Finally, Clint hung up and Foggy looked over to see Matt looking at him tensely.

"Hawkeye?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," said Foggy. "I gotta go. I'm really sorry."

"And what am I supposed to do here?" Matt asked, gesturing to the conference table covered in paperwork and legal books.

"I'll make it up to you," Foggy said. "I promise. You can not go out for one night, can't you?"

Matt looked like he wanted to say something. Foggy left before he could.

* * *

By the time the police finished interrogating his new client, the sun was just coming up over the city.

"Man," Foggy said to Clint as they walked down the steps of the police station towards the sidewalk, "you look like shit. I'm assuming you have somewhere to go? And access to a doctor who can patch you up?"

Clint shrugged his shoulders. "I'll figure it out," he said.

"What does that mean?" Foggy asked. "Come on, then," he said, gesturing towards himself as he hailed a taxi. "Let's get some food in you and have a look at those cuts and scrapes."

"Seriously?" Clint asked. "Are you sure?"

"I think I've got some Lucky Charms and milk," Foggy said, "and my first aid kit is well-stocked. I could probably even stitch up that cut above your eye pretty well. I need the practice, anyway."

"You're working on your suturing skills? Does that come in handy as a lawyer?" Clint asked.

"You wouldn't be the first superhero I've had eating my food and taking advantage of my hospitality. I'm kind of starting a collection," Foggy said. "Plus, there are other advantages. It makes me useful if there's ever a zombie apocalypse."

Clint laughed and got in the cab. "Well in that case, can I pay you in archery lessons? Skill for skill? Because believe it or not, being an Avenger pays shit."

Foggy laughed as the cab pulled away. Who knew that Hawkeye would end up being his favourite Avenger?

* * *

In his apartment, once Clint was settled in with the promised sugary cereal, Foggy began organizing his first aid kit to fix the man up. The mood became more serious.

"Do I want to know what really happened tonight?" Foggy asked. "Because those cops were pretty convinced that you were involved in that hit. And I gotta say, a guy gets taken out on the sidewalk by an arrow to the head from a sixth-story window two streets over, you're the first person I'd suspect too."

"I am that good," Clint replied.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Foggy said. "I know that you're an Avenger and everything, but you guys have been involved in some pretty freaky business. And one would assume that your first call if everything was on the up and up would have been to their legal team, not me."

"Yeah, sorry about that, man," Clint said. "Steve told me you were a stand up guy, which it seems like you are. I wouldn't have involved you, but I didn't know who else to call. I don't want S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers involved in this."

"What is this, exactly?" Foggy asked.

Clint sighed. "Can I trust you?" he asked. "I mean I think that I can, but I also devoted my life to S.H.I.E.L.D. and most of those guys turned out to be the worst kind of backstabbing assholes. So what the hell do I know, really?"

"Steve vouched for me, didn't he?" Foggy said. "If it makes you feel any better, I am also friends with Spider-Man and Daredevil, and those guys have a lot more reason to have trust issues than you do."

"Yeah?" Clint asked. "Spidey seems alright. I've never fought with him personally but I've seen him in action. Daredevil gives me the creeps, though. You're really friends with him?"

"When he's not being surly," Foggy said.

"So you're not, then," said Clint.

"Ha ha. I'm going to tell him you said that," Foggy said.

Clint just smiled. "It was my brother," he finally said.

"Sorry?" Foggy asked.

"The hit man who took out that diplomat tonight," Clint replied. "It wasn't me, but I was still responsible. Because I couldn't talk my brother Barney out of it."

Foggy took a deep breath. "Oh. Okay. You're quite the talented family, then?" he asked.

"We trained under the same man," Clint said. "He went one way. I went another. I wish things were different, but they're obviously not. That's why I didn't want to involve anyone else."

"So that you could catch your brother yourself?" Foggy asked, "Or so that he could get away?"

"Honestly," Clint said, "I haven't really decided yet."

"You know that he almost pinned it on you, right?" Foggy said. "Just because they don't have any evidence it was you doesn't mean that the cops aren't still going to be looking at you pretty closely for it. I would advise leaning on the Avengers to put pressure on the cops to back off if I were you. It could still come back on you."

"I know," Clint said. "It's going to get back to Steve and the others sooner or later. But that's for me to worry about. I'm just glad I could count on you to show up tonight. I appreciate it."

"Of course," said Foggy. "You know that I'm considering all these hours as billable, right? So you are going to owe me a lot of archery lessons. I'm going to start clearing room on my shelf over there for my Olympic gold medal."

Clint laughed as Foggy pulled a chair closer to him so that he could stitch him up.

* * *

Foggy didn't sleep that night. He didn't have time. By the time he tucked a blanket around the exhausted archer sleeping on his couch, it was already 8am. He could have called in sick, but he knew that it would have only raised more red flags with Matt and been taking the cowards way out.

When he stumbled into the office an hour later wearing the same suit he had left in the night before, he was surprised to find that Karen wasn't at her desk yet. Matt was standing in his office waiting for him.

"Did you want something, buddy?" Foggy asked. "Because I'm really exhausted and we still have a lot of work to get done on the Cappoletto case, even if you did get the initial complaint ready for filing last night. Which I'm hoping for the sake of our client you did."

Matt just sighed. "I told you that I didn't want this firm to be associated with superheroes, Foggy," Matt said. "Hawkeye? Really?"

"No," said Foggy, "You didn't say superheroes, Matt. You said Daredevil. And you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" Matt asked, angry. "Foggy, do you have any idea how exposed it makes us to be known as an Avengers lawyers? Or Spider-Man's?"

Unfortunately for Matt, Foggy was too tired to hold back what he thought of that. "Hmmmm... I don't know, Matt," he said, "Maybe as exposed as having Daredevil as one of the partners does? But of course you don't care about that, do you? You're so worried about protecting me and this business that you don't see the ways that it needs protection from you! From you neglecting this firm to the point where it's not financially stable! From you putting us at risk of lawsuits, police investigations or disbarment if your identity ever becomes known! I'm doing what I have to do, Matt. Spider-Man and Hawkeye? They're practice clients. Training wheels for when the real shit hits the fan with what you're doing every night. So yes, you should be kissing my ass right now telling me what a great and wonderful friend I am, because you're lucky to have me."

"So that's what you think, then," Matt said, and Foggy immediately regretted the way it had come out of his mouth. Matt looked devastated. "You think that I'm just going to hang you out to dry? That I am not as invested in what we're doing here as you are?"

"No, Matt," Foggy said, but it was too late to take it back.

"You don't trust me," said Matt. "You're so certain that I'm not going to be careful enough and that my identity will come out."

"Are you kidding me?" Foggy asked. "Matt, I trust you more than I probably should. I'm here, aren't I? I'm keeping your secret. Every day. Lying to everyone, including Karen. Everything I've been doing has been about protecting you. But, Matt, do you trust me? Because it kind of seems like you really don't. And this can't be one way. I can't put all of my faith in you and have you turn around and dismiss my opinion, have you question my decisions. We're supposed to be partners."

"We are!" said Matt.

"We could be," Foggy said. "Now that I know the truth. The truth that I had to find out accidentally, I'd just like to remind you."

"Foggy..." Matt said, clearly intending to apologize again.

"No, Matt," Foggy said. "I don't need apologies, or groveling, or for you to blame yourself for what happened. I just need to know that I can be as honest with you as I want you to be with me from now on, and that you'll take me seriously. That you won't assume that you always know what you're doing, and that you won't worry about protecting me over protecting yourself. And that you'll be here for me when I need you to be."

"Always," said Matt. "I just don't want you getting involved in that world, Foggy. It's dangerous."

"You think I don't know that?" Foggy asked, "I was right in the middle of the Chitauri invasion, Matt. Remember? Aliens and destruction in the sky, buildings collapsing, nuclear weapons nearly being dropped on us? I went to Mrs. Cardenas' funeral just like you did, and I've visited Ben's grave too. Just a few weeks ago, I was attacked by a crazy guy on metal stilts and had a car thrown at me. A car! But you know what? At the end of the day, I'm not just Hawkeye and Spider-Man's lawyer. Captain America puts his faith in me. And I wielded Thor's freakin' hammer once. So you don't have to worry about me so much, alright? I may not have crazy ninja powers, but I'm a fantastic lawyer and I promise you that I will be careful, I will be smart, and together we will make the names Nelson and Murdock mean as much as the name Daredevil does to people. You were the one who wanted us to make a difference. the right way. So let's do it already!"

A slight smile crept across Matt's face. "You wielded Thor's hammer?" he asked in amazement.

"Oh, yeah," Foggy said. "I took out one of the Chitauri with it. Saved my sister's life during the Battle of New York. But, you know, it was no big thing really."

"Big thing, Foggy," Matt said. "Big thing. You need to tell me everything. Right now."

And so Foggy did. He kept it professional, though. He left out the part where he had beers and sometimes had pinball competitions with Steve in his favorite Brooklyn bar, or the time he once coached Peter through a particularly bad bit of lovesick teen angst via text message, and avoided telling him about the upcoming archery lesson he had scheduled with the world's greatest marksman. And he didn't see the need to alarm Matt by telling him that he suspected his girlfriend might be the She-Hulk recently seen helping the Avengers. He wanted to be honest with Matt, not show off. He didn't want to make the man jealous.


	6. Chapter 6 - Iron Man

Foggy was at a loss. He had no clue what to do. He knew his life had gotten strange, but this was just too much for him.

It started on a Monday afternoon while Foggy was eating his lunch in his office, trying to catch up on his own work so that he could get to Matt's, since Matt was at home recuperating from a recent bout of hypothermia. The man had apparently gotten himself thrown into the icy East River. It had been difficult for Foggy to explain that one to Karen, but somehow he'd done it.

"There's someone calling from the Maria Stark Foundation for you," Karen said, and she sounded impressed and curious as she transferred the call.

"Mr. Nelson," the pleasant-sounding woman on the other end of the line said when he picked up, "My name is Melissa Bower and I'm calling on behalf of the Maria Stark Foundation. We'd like to set an interview up with you next week for an opening as the head of our legal department. You were referred to us by Mr. Stark himself."

"Buh..." was all Foggy could think to say. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yes, he said that you were very impressive and we're looking forward to meeting with you," the woman said. "When is a good time?"

"I already have a position I'm very happy with," Foggy said in a daze. "I'm not looking for a new one."

There was a pause. "Mr. Nelson," Ms. Bower said, I should let you know that the position pays a seven figure salary. You would be working out of one of the top floors in Stark Tower, with your own office and staff, and would be working for one of the world's top charitable organizations, responsible for the dissemination and oversight of over a billion dollars annually to those in need, as well as responsible for overseeing the legal needs of the Avengers."

Foggy took a deep breath. Was he really going to do what he knew he was about to do? "No thank you," he said slowly, "but please thank Mr. Stark for the referral for me."

With that, the conversation ended.

"Huh," Foggy said. "Okay."

* * *

The next offer came in the form of a package that unfortunately arrived while Foggy and Matt were both in the office prepping for a client meeting.

Karen knocked on the conference room door lightly, and entered with a box the shape of a laptop computer tucked under her arm. It was wrapped in red velvet and tied with a gold bow. "This came for you," she told Foggy. "Do you have a secret admirer?"

"What is that?" Matt asked. Karen looked at Foggy expectantly and he felt obliged to open it in front of them. "Let's find out," he said.

Inside, carefully encased in still more velvet, was a small clear piece of glass only an inch or so thick. On top of it was a note that said "Turn On". Foggy read the note out loud and the piece of glass lit up, information scrolling across it in a remarkable display and a holographic video screen projecting itself above it.

"The Maria Stark Foundation was founded in 1963..." a pre-loaded video began to say. "Turn Off!" Foggy shouted, unsure if it would work. It didn't. The video kept projecting above their conference room table, exhorting the high-minded ideals of the charitable organization and chronicling it's efforts in third world countries.

"What's going on?" Matt asked.

"Beats me," Foggy said, not sure what to do. The video ended and the words "Join Us" hovered there, a plea that Foggy felt ridiculous for refusing but knew he had to. Eventually the projection ended, but his new Starkphone, a version not yet even close to being on the market, stayed on, an owners manual icon staring up at him.

"Who sent it?" Karen asked.

"I think Tony Stark did," Foggy said.

Matt just sat there next to him, looking like he had something to say but not saying a word.

* * *

The next day, a bottle of 1939 Macallan scotch showed up. Foggy didn't know anything about whiskey, but when he looked it up on the internet he nearly fell out of his chair realizing that the bottle was worth over $10,000. Definitely something he planned on saving for a special occasion. Like his deathbed. Or the end of the world.

There was a note in the box that just said "Congratulations on the new job I know you'll be taking. Looking forward to working with you. T."

He called Ms. Bowers back and told her to tell her boss to back off. He wasn't interested.

* * *

The following day, another box arrived. Again, Karen and Matt were both present when he opened it to find what looked like the arm from an Iron Man suit staring up at him, a bow around it.

The note said "If I build it, you will come, right? I'm jealous you'd be worthier than me if you wore it, but don't think I wouldn't do it. Come join the party. T." Foggy was glad he didn't read it out loud, but knew that Karen was hovering over his shoulder.

"Oh, what the hell?" Foggy said, exasperated.

"What is it?" Matt asked.

"It's a piece of a freaking Iron Man suit!" Karen squealed. "Oh my God! Foggy! What does he mean about building one for you?"

"What?" Matt said.

"Nothing," said Foggy. "It's nothing."

"Foggy..." Matt said, frustration in his tone.

"Karen, can you excuse us?" Foggy asked quickly. "I think we have to have a little partners meeting." Karen looked disappointed, so he threw the gift at her. "You can play with it while we talk." He watched her try not to smile before leaving.

Once the door had closed behind her, Matt exploded. "Tony Stark is sending you presents now? How long has this been going on? I thought you were going to be honest with me, Foggy!"

"Okay, alright," Foggy said. "It's been happening for a little while now. They're not presents though."

"They're not?" Matt asked.

"They're a job offer," Foggy said. "I'm not taking the job, obviously, so I didn't think I had to tell you."

"He wants to hire us?" Matt said.

"No," Foggy said, "He wants to hire me. To be the head of the legal department for the foundation that does all his charity work and oversees the Avengers."

"Oh," said Matt. Apparently he didn't have a response to that.

"Yeah," said Foggy. "I told you I'm not taking it though."

"Why not?" Matt asked.

"What?" Foggy said, not understanding.

"Well I'm sure it pays more," Matt said. "You said yourself that we're struggling to keep ourselves afloat. And if you worked for the Avengers, you wouldn't have to worry about me getting you into trouble. Plus, you'd be doing good work on behalf of a charity. Why wouldn't you take it, Foggy?"

Foggy looked at Matt like he had grown three heads. "Because it wouldn't be Nelson and Murdock. Because I wouldn't get to build something of my own with you."

"You would be better off if you took the job," Matt said, looking destroyed as he said it. "You said it yourself. My life is dangerous. I could get you disbarred or worse. And you would be really successful if you worked for Stark. I mean, he even offered to build you an Iron Man suit. You could be a hero in your own right, Foggy."

"That's not who I am, Matt," Foggy said. "That's not who I want to be."

"And who is that, then?" Matt asked.

"Your friend," Foggy said. "Your partner. The Maverick to your Goose, man! Avocados at law! I know I've given you kind of hard time lately, and I'll admit it hasn't been easy dealing with everything, figuring out how to move forward. But there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be than here. I can't believe that you would even question that about me."

Matt smiled tentatively. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"100,000,000 percent. Iron Man can woo me all he wants, and sure it's fun to flirt with Captain America or Spider-Man from time to time. But they're just distractions at the end of the day. My heart belongs to Daredevil.

Matt laughed, and they were finally, truly okay.

* * *

Foggy sent the Iron Man gauntlet back where it came from, because really, was he going to keep what could potentially be a dangerous weapon in it's own right that he didn't understand just sitting around his apartment? After that, Foggy assumed that Stark would get the message. But Foggy didn't know Tony Stark.

A week after the last gift, Foggy called out to Karen for something from his office only to get no response. He knew that she hadn't gone to lunch, because Matt had gone to pick something up for them (which Foggy suspected might be related to Daredevil business, but he knew better than to ask). He listened closely and could hear giggling coming from the reception desk, unnatural, like might come out of a schoolgirl or anime character. He had never heard Karen giggle like that.

When he came out to investigate, his jaw dropped as he saw Tony Stark in all his glory, looking like he just stepped off of a magazine cover, standing over Karen's desk conversing with her. Was he flirting with her?

Foggy cleared his throat to let them know he was in the room. "You must be Nelson," Tony said.

Karen just blushed and breathed heavily from where she sat behind her desk.

"That's me, although you can call me Foggy. I don't really have to ask who you are," he said.

"Foggy?" Tony asked. "Damn. Somebody got to the ridiculous nickname before I could. Whatever. It works. I like it. Let's step into your office shall we?" He took Foggy's elbow and led him into his own office, shutting the door behind them.

Foggy was surprised when the man didn't plop himself down into Foggy's own chair and put his feet up on the desk. It seemed like the kind of move he would make, and he was acting like he owned the place anyway. Instead he stood there like he was waiting for Foggy to take a seat.

Foggy sat, but Tony didn't. Instead, he began pacing around the room.

So," he said. "Foggy Nelson," he said. "Why, exactly, do you not want to come and work for me? I mean, I can't figure it out. It's driving me crazy. It's not the money, because Steve told me that you guys were barely keeping the doors open here. The overall environment leaves something to be desired, honestly, so I know that the amenities I offered you are more than adequate. I specifically avoided offering you a position on the Stark Industries team or working for me directly, because from everything I've heard you're not a guy who wants to work for the 1%, which is admirable if naive. So what's the deal?"

"Ummmm..." Foggy said, intimidated.

"Is it the secretary?" Tony continued. "Because believe me I know how much a loyal and plucky administrative assistant is worth. They're not as easy to come by as people think. You could bring her with you, though. And wouldn't that just be impressive? You could take her with you all over the world. Show her a private plane. Take her out to the best restaurants. Enough to make up for any reservations she might have about settling for the nice, schlubby guy over some hot guy she meets in a dive bar, if that's something you want."

"What?" Foggy asked, offended. "No! It's not like that!"

"Then what's it like?" Tony asked. "What's your deal, Foggy? What's your price? Everyone's got one."

"Not me," Foggy said.

"Right..." Tony said, disbelieving. "Well I guess I should have expected that answer. It's sort of why I want you so bad to begin with. Damn."

Foggy could only nod and try not to tremble too much. The trembling might make him appear less resolved than he was.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door, and Matt appeared, looking fierce. "Mr. Stark," he said, extending his hand as he stepped into the room.

"This is my partner, Matt Murdock," Foggy said. "Matt, Mr. Stark was just leaving."

Tony took in Matt's cane and glasses, then looked back over towards Foggy. "Huh," he said, like he was solving a puzzle. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock," he said, shaking Matt's hand.

And with that, he left.

Foggy let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"That was Tony Stark," said Matt.

"That was Tony Stark," said Foggy back.

* * *

Several days later, Karen came into Foggy's office blushing again. Before she even opened her mouth, Foggy had a feeling he knew what that particular color of beet red meant on Karen.

"Tony Stark is on the phone for you," she said. He saw Matt's ears perk up across the room.

"Put him through, Karen," Foggy said.

"So I know you said that you didn't have a price," he heard Tony say on the other end when he picked up, "but like I said Foggy, everyone does. And I'm pretty sure I've found yours."

"I told you, Mr. Stark, I'm not interested in the job," Foggy said.

"I know that," Tony said. "I figured that out talking to Ms. Page. She had a lot to say when I was there about how your firm was small but mighty, and how proud she was to work there. And I get it, believe it or not. You're building something, you and your partner. Something that's yours, that's got your name on the door, and you don't want to give it up to put my last name on your business cards.

"So you're going to stop harassing me?" Foggy asked.

"Not quite. You see, Steve wasn't wrong about you guys struggling. And you do good work for him. And Clint too. And Jen really likes you. So I'm going to help you out, but on terms I think you'll like," Tony said. "Meeting your partner gave me the idea, and it's one I don't think either of you will be able to resist. Right now, my legal team at Stark Industries has a metric ton of ADA litigation and compliance complications that they're working through related to our factories, and overseas where the standards and laws are different it's even worse. I'm thinking that I could farm that out to your firm. Hire you, but as a third party, to help my existing legal team handle that workload. I figure that might be something you and your partner would both be interested in gaining some specialization in, and it might give you the edge you need to bring in other clients. I mean, I'm sure your partner doesn't like to draw attention to it but why not use his personal experiences to your advantage and help people at the same time, right?

By this point, Matt had crept into Foggy's office listening to the conversation, and Foggy hadn't gestured for him to leave. He looked up at Matt, who nodded vigorously. "Take the offer," Matt said.

"Okay," Foggy said. "That is a great offer, actually, Mr. Stark. Thank you."

"See, you have a price. It's just not monetary. A lot of times, they aren't," Tony said. "Call me Tony, by the way, since we're going to be working together. I'll put the paperwork through and have it sent over later in the week. Pleasure doing business with you. And could you do me a favor? Could you tell Steve and Jen how happy you are about this? Because I could use the goodwill, honestly."

"Ummmm... sure," said Foggy.

"Great, thanks. Bye!" And he hung up.

"Wow," Matt said.

"Yeah. Wow," Foggy said. "So, Josie's tonight?"

"Definitely," said Matt.

That night, the three of them made plans for the future of Nelson and Murdock, finally safe in the knowledge that their firm would be successful. They envisioned potential future office improvements and necessary purchases, even discussing potential paint colors to brighten up the walls. Later, Jen joined them, and Foggy loudly showed everyone in the bar the congratulatory text he got from Steve, and told the story of how he had once lifted Thor's hammer. Nobody except his friends believed him, and Josie told him he was full of shit. But he felt on top of the world, and so it didn't matter.


	7. Chapter 7 - Jessica Jones

"Morning, Joe," Foggy said cheerfully to the man standing behind the counter of his favorite newsstand, the one he visited every day on his way to the office.

"Morning, Mr. Nelson," Joe said, handing over Foggy's usual copy of the New York Times, New York Bulletin and Daily Bugle. Although lately he was regretting giving the last one his money.

The Daily Bugle seemed to be running a different crackpot superhero expose every day. Two on Sundays. So far, they had theorized that Daredevil was a disgraced priest, a former officer of the NYPD out to expose corruption and make the police look foolish, and, unbelievably, an actual demon. That suited Foggy just fine. So long as none of the headlines said "Daredevil is Blind Lawyer" he'd allow them to keep on saying whatever they wanted.

Today's headline was not about Daredevil. But it still made him sit down on a nearby bench, eager to read the details of the story immediately.

"PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR IN MIND CONTROL PLOT!" it read, and it detailed the story of how a local PI had become embroiled in the case of Hope Shlottman, infamous murderer of her parents who was supposed to stand trial but had instead recently been released and killed herself. Foggy had been following the story with some interest. The girl's claims of innocence, that the murders she committed were the result of mind control, were outlandish and the papers had been running stories on the girl every day. Her release had been a complete surprise, with protesters even showing up in front of the DA's office, demanding answers that couldn't be provided. The DA mysteriously couldn't remember why he thought signing Hope's release papers was a good idea, which lent credence to her mind control claims.

Matt said that Foggy was ridiculous for being so interested. He was convinced that Hope Shlottman was simply troubled or mentally ill. But Foggy couldn't help but believe her. After all, he was best friends with a guy with supersenses and his girlfriend turned green when she was angry, so was mind control really so hard to believe? He'd heard rumours from Brett about strange things happening in his precinct. And he could feel a rising anxiety in the atmosphere of Hell's Kitchen as more and more stories of "gifted" individuals, of strange cocoons turning ordinary people into alien monsters and of plots to attack vigilantes or have them arrested, began to circulate in the papers. He couldn't help but worry. He was close to too many people with secrets to protect, with abilities that they couldn't always control, not to.

And now, as he soaked in every detail of the latest article, he realized that maybe he needed to add one more person to that list. Because the PI at the center of the day's story in the Bugle was Jessica Jones, and he knew her. He could remember the first time he met her vividly, despite having been extremely drunk at the time.

* * *

"Another!" Foggy said, tapping the counter with his fingers to signal Josie to pour him another round, his head lowered so that his forehead was almost resting on the bar.

"Go home, kid", Josie told him.

"C'mon, Josie," Foggy said. "Just one more. Isn't your job to get people drunk?"

"Yeah, well this is the fourth night in a row you've been in here. Don't you have ambulances to chase?" Josie asked him, but she poured him another whiskey anyway.

"Ha!", Foggy said bitterly, "I don't chase ambulances. I just bribe cops."

"You!" Josie suddenly yelled, pointing towards the door. "Out!"

Foggy turned, almost falling off his stool as his entirely body tilted to the side to complete the motion. He'd never heard Josie kick a customer out before. And he knew that some of them had given her a reason to.

He was surprised to see a woman in the doorway in a leather jacket and jeans, with jet black hair that fell to her shoulders. She was wearing sunglasses. The outfit was clearly designed to make her look tough, but it was the scowl on her face that really completed the picture. She looked disgusted and offended by Josie's anger.

"Are you kidding me?" the woman asked. "Lady, you've got a half-dozen customers in this place right now who've got outstanding warrants. Are you really gonna deny me a drink?"

She sauntered over to the bar, oblivious to the way that the eyes of several men in the bar tracked her movement, and sat down on the stool next to Foggy. "Bourbon, the cheapest you've got," she said, and Josie dutifully poured it, despite her hesitance.

"Those boys may have troubles, but they don't bring them here. You owe me for busting the place up last time," Josie told the woman.

"Put it on my tab," came the reply. "What are you looking at?" she asked Foggy, who hadn't noticed that he was staring.

"Nothing," Foggy told her. "Just... I've never seen Josie do that before. You don't look like that much trouble."

"Oh, trust me, I am. A whole world of it," the woman said. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Foggy Nelson," he said, tapping the bar again.

"I thought you said just one more?" Josie asked.

"When is it ever just one more in a bar?" the woman asked, indicating that she needed another as well.

"Damn right," Foggy said. "What's your name?"

"Jones," she replied. "Jessica Jones." She held out her hand, and Foggy shook it.

"Nice to meet you," Foggy told her. "I've never seen you in here before."

"I'm new to the neighborhood," Jessica said.

"Did you really trash this place last time?" Foggy asked.

"I didn't mean to. It just kinda happens around me," she told him.

"Sounds lonely," he said.

"I'm in a bar drinking alone, aren't I?" she replied.

"That's very true," he agreed. "You'd have to be pretty lonely to do that."

Jessica raised her glass in a toast, and Foggy raised his too.

It turned out to be the beginning of a sad, strange friendship.

For a couple of weeks, they would sit next to one another in the bar and commiserate with one another over their shared sense of loneliness and disconnection. Jessica would come in extremely late towards closing time, which she told Foggy was an occupational habit when he inquired. She shared stories with him about her struggling PI business, and stories about the various residents of Hell's Kitchens' sexual fetishes and scandals. He told her stories about the history of the neighborhood and it's mob connections going back to when he was a kid. He didn't bring up Fisk, or Matt, or the fact that he was a lawyer. Those things still hurt too much to think about.

After Fisk's arrest, after everything began to go back to normal with Matt, Foggy didn't find himself alone all that often in Josie's anymore. And Jessica never seemed to be there when he was. He never questioned what happened to her. They had clearly met each other at a bad time. He assumed that she, just like him, had simply moved on to better things. Or at least, he hoped, a better bar.

* * *

"I wouldn't if I were you," a red-headed woman yelled at him as he walked up the steps to the building he knew housed Alias Investigations, Jessica's business. She was clearly a resident of the building, and the lawyer in him briefly considered the half-dozen different bylaws he knew that a private business operating in a residential apartment disregarded. Considering what he knew about Jessica Jones, it didn't surprise him.

"Wouldn't what?" he asked, curious.

"Get involved with Jessica Jones. She's dangerous," the person told him with a sneer.

"Maybe I'm dangerous," Foggy told her in reply. She just laughed. Foggy was a little offended at that. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by it's cover?"

"Good luck," the woman told him as he walked past her and into the building.

Even in the hallway he could hear Jessica conversing with someone on the phone. When he got to her apartment he realized why. There was a giant open panel in her doorway where clearly a glass window had once been. He didn't have to knock because Jessica could see him. She finished her conversation and regarded him suspiciously, leaned back in her chair with her feet thrown up on the desk.

"Stormy right?" she asked. "Or Windy? Something with weather, I know that much."

"Foggy," he informed her, pushing the door open. It wasn't locked, or even closed properly. "You know this city is dangerous right?"

"Well I'm assuming you're here because you read the papers, so do you really think I care?" she asked. "Drink?" she waved a bottle of whiskey at him with one hand.

"No," he said, "I'm not really doing the day drinking thing anymore, fortunately."

"Must be nice," she said and poured herself a glass.

"So," he asked. "Mind control?"

"Yep," she said. "Do you believe it?"

"I've encountered stranger things lately," he told her.

"The world is a strange, disturbing place. That's for sure," she said. "Is that all you came here to ask me?"

He sighed, and pulled out his wallet, removing a business card and placing it on the desk.

"Nelson and Murdock?" she asked, looking at it. "Yeah, I've seen your ads on bus benches. That's you?"

"Yep," he said. "Just thought I'd let you know that. So that the next time you get involved in something that you don't think people will believe, you know someone you can turn to. I noticed that you went to Jeryn Hogarth about the Shlottman case, and retained her yourself. I figured you might like to know that you don't always have to swim with the sharks to survive. Or drown in legal bills. I also was hoping to get your rates. I may have some cases where we could use your help."

"PI use me? Or superhero use me? Because I'm getting a lot of pretty out there requests these days," she told him.

"Why don't I say PI use you," Foggy told her. "And we can go from there."

"Keep talking," she told him.

So he did, and he even accepted the drink she poured him despite his initial protestations. Because he realized that Jessica Jones wasn't someone who should really be left to drink alone. And because he was beginning to realize that sometimes just being there was it's own superpower.


	8. Chapter 8 - Spider-Man vs Punisher

Matt paused and cocked his head, surprised but also worried as a new set of sensory inputs made themselves known to him, interrupting his focus on the scent of blood he could smell inside the slaughterhouse that Turk had tipped him off to.

He thought about saying something to the figure nearby but decided instead to lean into what he hoped were the shadows of the alley, observing, knowing that the other person was attempting to be just as quiet and stealthy as he was.

Of course, Peter wasn't as good at it as Matt was. He was humming nervously. A pop song that Matt didn't know the name of, with the occasional lyric out loud punctuating the half-remembered tune. And fidgeting with all the pent up energy and awkwardness of a bored fourteen-year-old. Matt would have recognized Peter immediately, even if he wasn't hanging upside down from a fire escape in a way only Spider-Man could. His heartbeat was always louder than most people - strong and distinctive. A likely side effect of whatever happened to him to allow him to swing from building to building the way he did.

Another side effect, Matt had learned not long after his first encounter with him, was that Peter's senses were almost as sharp as his.

"Who's there?" Peter called out. Matt stepped forward, letting Peter realize who he was.

"Daredevil," Peter said, jumping down from the fire escape gracefully, but with caution. They may have met before, but Daredevil's reputation for violence and anger always made Peter wary. "What are you doing here?"

"Just out for a late night stroll," he replied. "Like you."

"Right," Peter said. "Just a friendly stroll that happens to take you to a slaughterhouse where some drug dealers ran after fleeing this Punisher guy everyone's so worked up about."

"It is quite the coincidence," Matt replied. "Isn't this a little far from your usual territory?"

"It is. But you know as well as I do that criminals in this city don't always like to keep to their own neighborhoods. Plus, there is a psychopath on the loose. That sort of seemed like a thing that I didn't really want happening in my backyard, you know?"

"I know," Matt told him. And he meant it. "But I can take it from here."

"Uhhhh... no?" Peter replied. "I was here first, so you know... Finders keepers, I guess? Does that apply in a situation like this? Anyway, I'm not leaving. Working together is actually probably better anyway, right? Two heads are better than one? Team Red!"

Matt assumed that Peter gestured to their costumes. He wished he could smile at the enthusiasm the kid had, but the stench of death and cries for help coming from the slaughterhouse were only escalating as they stood there. No teenager should be exposed to that.

"The Punisher isn't some desperate junkie or pissed off mugger," Matt said. "He's a mass murderer out for blood. He's dangerous."

"Yeah, well... I'm dangerous," Peter said. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself he meant it.

"You're also unarmoured," Matt told him. "The person who gunned down the Irish, this Punisher, did it with the kind of weapons that could slam through a bulletproof vest. What are you going to do when you find him? Dance around him until you can web him up? He'll kill you."

"Your costume doesn't exactly look assault weapon proof either," Peter replied. "And this is my city. I can't walk away and let someone do what he's doing knowing that I have the power to do something about it. No way."

Matt's heart broke a little to hear someone so young declare something like that with such conviction. Peter was going to grow into one hell of a man some day. Matt just had to convince him to live long enough to get there.

Peter went to swing up the side of the building, but Matt knew he couldn't let him. He tackled Peter and slammed him face first into the ground of the alley. Peter sputtered in shock and struggled. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked. "I'm on your side!"

"I don't want to be your enemy. But I will do what I have to do to keep you out of this. Stick to stopping muggings and holdups and things you can handle, kid."

It was Matt's turn to be surprised when Peter flipped over underneath him and threw him off with the strength and agility of a gymnast. He braced for an attack, but it never came. Instead, Peter stood for a moment, rattled but thinking.

"I'm not a kid," Peter said, finally. "It's Spider-Man, in case you haven't heard."

Matt sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. But you have no idea what you're up against, what's in that slaughterhouse. And I know your M.O. You're not like me. You help people, but you also avoid a fight when you can. You don't seek them out the way I do. If you go in there? Well, I'd hate to see you come out of it a different person. That's all."

"Promise me you'll handle this?" Peter asked him.

Matt nodded. "I'll take care of it."

"Promise." Peter said again.

"I promise."

With a barely perceptible nod, Peter swung away and Matt breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

He didn't want to say anything. Foggy was angry enough at him as it was, not that Matt could blame him. He never wanted Foggy to have to see him so vulnerable again after what had happened the night Foggy found out about Daredevil. But there hadn't been time before the Punisher shot him, and if he didn't say something to Foggy now, he knew he would regret it if something happened.

"You need to talk to Peter," he told Foggy from where he sat with his head in his hands, nauseous, on his couch.

"I'm sorry, what?" Foggy asked him, surprised, from the kitchen where he was finishing up washing dishes. An attempt to keep himself occupied and not think about things that stressed him out, Matt knew.

"Peter Parker," Matt clarified. "I know that he's Spider-Man, Foggy. I ran into him last night trying to go after Punisher just like I was trying to do. You need to talk to him. You're his lawyer. And his friend. He'll listen to you."

Foggy heaved a breath in and Matt knew that he was upset. He was trying not to cry. "Great," Foggy told him, anger in his voice, "that's just great, Matt."

"What do you want me to do, Foggy?" Matt asked. "Not say anything to you? I know it's not the best timing, but he's going to get himself killed!"

"You're going to get yourself killed! What I want is for you to care about that and to think about the example that you're setting. He's only a kid, Matt. A dumb kid who has the same dumb idealistic ideas that you do about sacrificing himself for a greater good and no clue what the hell he's doing. Imagine if you hadn't been there last night and he'd confronted the Punisher instead. That bullet that took you down wouldn't have hit a helmet, Matt! Goddammit!"

"Peter isn't Spider-Man because of me, Foggy," Matt told Foggy, angry that Foggy would accuse him of inspiring Peter to put himself in harm's way. "I don't know why he decided to put on that suit. Maybe you do. But what I do has nothing to do with him."

"Oh come on, Matt," Foggy told him. "Are you really that naive? You're out there playing the hero, sending a message to the whole world that taking the law into your own hands is A-OK. It's fine, everyone! If you wear a mask, you don't even have to have Stark's level of accountability! Join the party! Of course, copycats are going to spring up. Like Spider-Man. And like the Punisher."

Matt sucked in a breath at that. "That is..." He sputtered. "That is not fair, Foggy."

"Maybe not," Foggy told him. "But you know it's true." Foggy sighed. The deep kind of sigh that Matt had heard him let out far too often lately. It was the sigh of someone resigned to something they hate with no good options to do anything about it. Matt heard the tap turn back on. Foggy was back to washing the dishes.

"I'm sorry," Foggy finally told him. "I shouldn't have..."

"No, I'm sorry," Matt said. "I tried to talk to Peter myself. I think I got through to him. I promised him I would handle the Punisher. But I need you to make sure he stays out of this. Please."

"Yeah, of course I'll talk to him," Foggy said. "He trusts me. I'm sure I can convince him to listen to reason. That'll be a nice change."

Matt's nausea got worse, so he chose not to respond to that, laying back down on the couch and closing his eyes instead.

* * *

Foggy let out a deep breath he didn't realize he had been holding as the throng of reporters finally scattered and the claustrophobia of being surrounded on all sides dissipated. He tried to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest and will the panic away, knowing that the last thing he needed was for the headline of the next day's paper to read "Lawyer In Punisher Case Collapses On Courthouse Steps".

He felt like he might just be succeeding when the last of the reporters finally cleared away and revealed a lone photographer standing a few steps down from him, staring. A skinny, teenaged photographer who Foggy knew all too well. Better than many of those closest to him knew him, in fact.

"Hey Pete," he said sadly. "What are you doing here?" He gestured to the camera.

Peter shuffled his feet awkwardly. "School paper," he replied.

"Oh yeah?" Foggy asked, walking down the steps towards him. "Didn't know that high school newspapers were big on true crime. A little Rated R, isn't it? Shouldn't you be photographing the fish sticks in the cafeteria or new lockers or something?"

"Probably," Peter replied. "I asked to cover this though. On account of a personal interest."

Foggy lowered his head from Peter's gaze, unable to handle the disappointment in the young man's eyes. It felt like he was disappointing everyone lately.

"Thank you," he told Peter. "For taking what we talked about to heart and staying out of this mess."

"Of course," Peter told him, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Happy to do it. Wouldn't have wanted to get in the middle of something that you were already busy meddling with."

"I am an adult Peter," Foggy told him, hating how much he sounded like his own father, "And you are fourteen years old. There are things in life..."

"That I don't understand?" Peter asked him. "Yeah, I've heard this speech before. A lot, actually. Adults like to give it. But see, I think I understand just fine. I understand that you're a hypocrite. You talk a big game about helping people, but at the end of the day, you don't care. You want to talk about how I'm too idealistic and naive, but I'm doing the right thing. I understand the responsibility that I have to the world and to the people around me. You're defending a man who opened fire on your own neighborhood, painting him out to be some kind of war hero. I understand that you're not the person I thought you were."

"Peter..." Foggy tried to say, but Peter just shook his head at him.

"You're not my lawyer anymore, man. Or my friend."

Foggy let him walk away.


End file.
